


Greatest Seeker Alive

by badluckvixen13 (alteringviews)



Series: 1 Million for Black Hermione [17]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Black Hermione Granger, F/M, Quidditch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-12
Updated: 2017-03-12
Packaged: 2018-10-03 00:44:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10231715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alteringviews/pseuds/badluckvixen13
Summary: Hermione was going to kill Harry for dragging her there, but at least she got a date out of it.





	

“Hermione!”

She didn’t hear anything, but the snap of the metal to her left and then the rushing of air as the seats below began to rush towards her.  Between the force of gravity and panic, she was pretty sure that she couldn’t make her body move fast enough to cast that cushioning spell that Draco taught her. From the height, it would only break her arm instead of liquifying her and if she had the wherewithal to think about it, she would have considered that a victory.

At the moment, however, all she could think was that she was falling, falling, falling--

_ Going to die… going to die… going to die! _

To think this was how it was going to end: a twenty-something-year-old virgin, top notch magical librarian falling to her death at a bloody Quidditch game that she didn’t even want to go to! Shoved so hard that she broke the railing-- a wizarding railing at that. In her next life, she’d remember to scold the magical architect of the stadium, but first, she was going to delay her passage into the afterlife just long enough to haunt the pants off of Harry for at least a full week. She closed her eyes, trying to breathe and brace herself for the pain when the air was knocked out of her, and she heard herself screaming, arms wrapped around whatever had smacked into her, essentially carrying her away from the ground and against gravity.

She opened her eyes timidly and let out another scream seeing the distance from where she was seemingly floating against a solid warm body that smelled like sweat, fresh cut grass and something else that made her want to rub her face against it. She’d been hanging out with Crookshanks far too much it seemed. She tilted her head up, keeping her hands around the person who didn’t seem to be paying much attention to her. 

“Are alright?”

She shivered at the rough baritone above her and from beneath the red and black of his uniform. She didn’t look up, keeping her eyes closed as it was clear she was incredibly high up. 

“Y-Yes…”

“Cannot put down right now, will not drop you.”

“What?”

All at once, the broom dipped and she slid away from him in her shock, her arms coming apart as she screamed in terror, only to find herself maneuvered around to face the front of the broom as it dove. Hermione screamed, holding onto the broomstick above the hands that circled her waist and steered. 

The world streaked past as the mysterious broom rider guided them through a series of loops and zigzags across the field, dodging bludgers at the last minute and twirling up into the sky. She panted, trying to remember to breathe as the rounded out and whatever the man was chasing seemed to be refusing to be caught. 

_ Oh God, she was on the Seeker’s broom. _

Of everyone in the game who could have caught her, why the Seeker? She could have wept and if she died of a heart attack, she’d come back to kill Harry Potter, not just haunt him. The hand slipped to wrap around her more firmly, pulling her back and she felt the broom vanish from between her legs. 

“You’re bloody crazy!” She shrieked as they began to fall, both of them freefalling down. 

Viktor only smirked at her shrieking. While she clearly was afraid of heights, not once had this rather… a gorgeous woman who’d all but fell into his lap struggled to get away. Then again, her very round backside would have been hell on his ability to fly. Clinging to him when she fell. Her dainty brown hands had fisted his jersey tightly and were now holding tight to the broomstick while they flew. He guessed that she was at the very least a Quidditch player’s girlfriend if not one herself since she clearly had the flying instinct. Unfortunately, trying to get her situated on his broom had already lost him a good deal of time and he had to make up for it if he was going to get his team the World Cup this year. 

The little flash of gold darted around but followed the pattern he thought as his broom flew to slip into his hands, and hers he was happy to note. They held on as she screamed in terror and Viktor outstretched his hand, snagging the little gold ball out of the air and turning the broom to an easy coast and lifted it above his head, keeping Hermione against him. 

_ Bulgaria wins the World Cup! What a show ladies and gentlemen! _

Hermione opened her eyes, shaking, yet somehow steady as they hovered a few miles above the ground.

“Are alright?” he asked into her ear, leaning forward to speak into her ear above the screaming in the stands. 

“I-I… you… you’re insane.”

She turned and froze looking at him, the swell of embarrassment almost too much.  She wasn’t sure what she’d expected from the voice, but it wasn’t this. Viktor Krum had been handsome from the magically projected distance, but he was far more handsome up close and without blood on his face. Sweaty, square jaw, a wicked smile and warm brown eyes gazing at her as if she were the most beautiful thing in the world. 

“Am sorry,” he said. “Have scared you, yes?”

Hermione swallowed and licked her lips, not quite missing the way his eyes darted down to watch the action and mirror it with just a little more sexual intent than she was prepared to handle several miles above the ground.

“I…”

“Are beautiful,” he breathed and offered his hand. “I am Viktor.”

“I...know who you are.”

“Are… fan?” he asked a tad wary.

“I’m… friends with one,” she said. “I… lost a bet, hence the red.”

He chuckled, “Have done great service for Bulgaria today, here.”

She blinked at the golden ball he offered her and all at once she winced, hissing at the pain in her ribs. 

“Have been hurt, yes?” He asked, stowing the snitch in her jumper and directing the broom down to the ground where his team was marveling, cheering with their Veela cheer squad. He lifted her rather easily off the broom, careful of her bruised ribs and lay her down on the medical cot. 

She looked up at him as he grinned, “Will have time for niceties yes? Boyfriend must be worried.”

“I don’t have a…”

Viktor’s eyebrow quirked up and he grinned as the medical team took her away. 

*

Hermione woke up on a medical cot to the sound of Ginny’s voice and Harry’s frantic defense of himself. 

“Going… to murder you, Harry.”

He turned and laughed, sitting on the bed and taking her hand, “Hey, how are you feeling?”

“Would have been better if I didn’t fall to my near death.”

Harry chuckled, “Yes… I suppose so.”

Hermione sat up and winced at the phantom pain in her ribs. Apparently, she’d cracked them while breaking the railing and--

“Harry, why do I have a Snitch in my pocket?”

Ginny grinned, shoving Harry out of the way excitedly, “Because the Bulgarian Bon Bon gave it to you! It’s all over the Daily Prophet!”

Hermione rolled her eyes, but took the paper and could have groaned. 

_ Viktor Krum: The Greatest Seeker Alive! _

The picture was simple, Viktor extending the Snitch to her while they were on his broom, pressed reasonably close, but it’s his expression that’s causing the uproar. That wicked smile that did crazy things to her insides. The subtitle beneath the picture said  _ A Catch for an Egyptian Lily? _ She could guess that Rita Skeeter would be riding this for quite some time.

“I think you have an admirer,” Ginny said. “Ron’s going to be furious!”

Hermione shook her head as if she cared about that. She rolled onto her feet and carried the Snitch towards the doors only to see Viktor about ready to walk in. He was still in his uniform, carrying a duffle bag but he smiled at her.

“Hello,” he said with a grin. “Are awake. Good.”

Hermione swallowed and nodded. The burning heat in his eyes making her feel like he was about ten seconds away of pouncing on her. She offered up the snitch in lieu of herself and took a step back. 

“Erm.. your, uhm, World Cup Snitch…”

He smiled and stepped forward to look at the Snitch then her, “I would rather have date with you, if available.”

She blinked, “W-What?”

“Is called date in English, yes?”

“Erm--”

“She’d love to!” Ginny but in beaming at him. “Wouldn’t you Hermione?”

“Ginny, don’t you start--”

“I promise, am not as much of brooding… dark cloud as Skeeter woman make seem,” Viktor said with a bit of humor. “I am… happily misunderstood, like Hamlet.”

Ginny lifted an eyebrow, having never heard the name. Before she could ask who Hamlet was Hermione looked up at him, her eyes sparkling a bit. 

“You’ve read Hamlet?” Hermione asked, shocked. 

Harry and Ginny were purebloods, raised in a  strictly wizarding world so it was so very rare with her life now to encounter someone who knew anything about muggle literature.

“Da,” he said. “Was… going to see production in London… would be interested?”

Hermione grinned and Viktor had a feeling that he’d figured out a way to weasel his way into her heart: intellectual stimulation.

“I… I would love to.”


End file.
